We Survived
by cupcakegumdrop3
Summary: ["Late Night Angel" One-Shot Series 2/4, FLASHBACK/PREQUEL, before LNA] Sometimes when Damien gets too upset, he can't control the demonic forces pulling him further into his spiral. They all believe he belongs in Hell, but he's found a reason to live on Earth. Now if only he can control his emotions.


**Yo yo yo, liar's in the house! I said that first story was a one time thing, but I really wanted to write about some of the consequences that brought Damien to that low place once he sprouted his wings.**

 **Part of the "Late Night Angel" One-shot Series, but technically a prequel so even though you'd read it second, it's technically chronologically first. Then "Not A Monster", then "Late Night Angel".**

 **So here's the story mentioned in LNA about the scariest time Damien lost control of his body. Cameo shoutouts to real Biblical references and Dante's Inferno. Enjoy!**

Something has made Damien upset. Something to do with Hell. I don't remember what. Right now I'm too scared to think of anything but what's happening in the present moment.

Right now, Damien is scared, confused, and not alone in his own body. This has only happened mildly in the past, but he's cast them out himself, aside from that one time. Now he's too weak and the others are taking over.

He's pacing around my room, where he'd shown up after a summons from his father took him away from what we were doing beforehand: playing board games and watching TV. _Occasionally_ stopping to fool around. A lot. It was a fun afternoon, we were hanging out. "Like normal teenagers", he'd chuckled. Then he got summoned. And now he was a wreck.

His eyes were on fire and beginning to rim red with blood. There were no tears to fall, but the crimson invaded his tear ducts nonetheless.

"Damien!" I've been shouting at him for the past… 30 minutes?!

 _"_ _Damien's not here…_ " voices hissed from his throat, and filling the air around us.

"Where is he." I ask calmly.

 _"_ _Come find him"_ the voices take over. I know what they mean.

I pull the old ouija board form my closet and open it. Dumb! I know, It's stupid! But I have to!

"Stop! I'm here!" Damien screams in his own voice. "I' ** _m_ h** _e_ r _e_ , _i_ **t** _'_ _s_ _ **m**_ e _st_ **op** _ **it**_ _"_ the voices overlap with his own, and I can't tell if he's really in there anymore. Suddenly he lurches forward like he's expelling something from his body. I only pray it's not his own soul. He's warned me about this happening. The last time his father had to come unannounced to help me save him. Nearly gave me a heart attack. But he's not here. And I don't want to summon him.

I know it's stupid, like so so so dumb, but I've read that this is the only quick way to successfully open a portal to other side where Damien's consciousness is, specifically the darker side of the other side.

"Don't tap into the void! _Without opening the portal,_ Ah!" He winces in his own voice at the end.

I stupidly only listen to the middle part, circling around the board three times.

"Damien. Come back to our side." I whisper as I lay my hands on the planchette. I'm not feeling any changes in energy and staring at his shell struggle to pace in the corner of the room like a rag doll's movements being orchestrated by puppet strings isn't helping. So I do something stupid.

I open the portal. I make figure 8's across the board and yell out "It's open, cross over!" As I feel various rushings of wind around me, I also feel a ghostly version of his arms protecting me from it. _Shit!_ He's not in there at all anymore, is he?

The air of the room is sheer terror. Low vibrations hum all around me as I struggle to feel confident in my shitty-inexperienced-exorcism. He's told me before that _if_ this happens I can use Bible verses as a last resort, but that it hurts him and tears at his soul. So I'll never use Bible verses. I know I'm unprotected as I continue.

"Go back in your body Damien, you can cast the rest out!" I try. I feel his apparition squeeze tighter and I think he doesn't want to go back. He's told me before that he feels like he has two separate souls, the human one and the devil one. Maybe this is just the scared human one that's clinging to me now.

Which means.

With an animalistic roar, what looks like hundreds of tiny black shadows exit his open mouth and the arms around me quickly let go as his body jolts and he blinks himself awake. It's Damien. He's back. I run to him and he takes me in his arms, he's hyperventilating and sobbing like a small child. The shadows that exited his mouth are fading into nothingness except for one, which sweeps around the room and gets more solid each time it passes us.

"Damien!" I whisper in fear and he holds me as tight as possible.

 _I'm tired of baby-sitting, it's time I get paid,_ we hear as the shadow envelops us.

All of a sudden, I feel dizzy. I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?

I'm shaking all over, sweaty palm over my chest, fist clenching at the fabric shrouding it as my knuckles blanche.

What's happening?

"Damien", I pant out as a half-question, half a cry for help.

I reach out to him with grasping fingers falling short of his retreating form as my vision starts to go black and I'm filled with a sense of panic, just in time for the room to fill with a sense of dread.

I know this isn't him. Even the devil-half of Damien would never hurt me, right?

Tears leak from my eyes because I remember this, I recognize this. He's showed me once before, one of his accidental oracle moments. Then it was a vision. But it's happening now.

I sort of wish I would just pass out or something, then I could chalk it up to being sick or something. Fuck. Why did I have to fall for someone who is half "some _thing_ ".

"Leave." I hear Damien choke out. Is he talking to me? He clears his throat with a small whimper and squares his shoulders. "This one's _mine_." Oh no. I get it now. _Fuck!_

 _Then why don't you take IT._ An unidentified voice whispers into the air around us.

Damien looks to me in a panic, then stares behind me where he can clearly see something I don't have the gift — or curse — of being able to see for myself. But I can feel it. And he sure can see it.

Icy hands wrap around my throat and a burning hot breath singes my ear with every growl that fills the room. All the while, I'm watching Damien's gaze flicker between watching me and watching what's behind me. His expression flickering from terror to "I'm gonna get the manager" and back every time he weakly tries to come up with something to say besides "my father will hear about this."

 _You can take the next one. This one summoned me._ I didn't. Did I?

My knees are weak, I can't stand up any more. I fall against the mass of hot air behind me, but it's not solid like Damien. I wobble and manage to fall forward on my knees as I gasp for breath. Sheer terror fills me and I don't know why. It occurs to me that I couldn't see it if I wanted to, but someone can… because Damien's panicked scream pierces the room.

"No! Get out of here! We didn't call you, it was a mistake!", I feel what I can only describe as a metaphorical tug on my heart as Damien finally roars with conviction "Don't!" My face feels hot. I hear blood rushing in my ears. Throbbing blood pumps forcibly through my tingling limbs and it makes me sick and nauseated. I'm tired. Just end this already.

 _You're a spoiled little brat. You won't appreciate this one like I will. I just need to hear the sssubmissssssionnnnnnn._ I feel breath on my face. _You're tired of this aren't you?_ I hear screams of protest from Damien not to say anything. I try not to nod my head but I'm so tired. It slumps forward in what I hope is not 'submission'.

"You're stealing from the Prince himself and you will no longer hold your high ranks, I can promise you that . You'll be trapped in the center ice of the 9th layer of Hell with Judas in Judecca where you should have been since the last time with that _Ana_ girl."

Flies are buzzing around me now. Why are there flies?

 _If you want it, TAKE IT._ I'm suddenly thrust towards Damien and he catches me.

"I'm sorry." He whispers and rests his hand against my chest. It's disappearing into a ghostly apparition of it's solid self. Wait. Damien looks away from me as he shoves his ghostly hand into my chest. It's a horrible pain. Icy, hot, stretching my lungs and squeezing my heart. "Don't let me in" he whispers to me, hoping only I hear him. "You have to keep me out", he pleads.

I struggle to keep my conciseness as I feel him hesitating. Whatever he's doing he doesn't want to keep doing it. I don't want him to either. I grab his shoulder and stare into his eyes as he whimpers and closes his eyes. It seems like he's concentrating hard on doing — or not doing — something that he's instinctually programed to do.

Then I feel something else. As if there's a soft caress to my soul. The pain is gone. The heat is gone, the ice is gone. I suddenly just feel warm and sunny. I don't know what's happening. I look over at Damien and see his shocked face, etched in gold. He's staring at his hand, vibrating white and faint, like a flash light that's going out. He has what appears to be a dingy, old, rusted halo on top of his head. Faded and barely there, only visible to someone willing to look close enough. Or maybe I'm just disoriented.

There's an explosion of flames and there's Damien's dad. I'm so glad I'm home alone this weekend or this would be a lot to explain.

Hello, Sir.

"Beelz", he roars, "did you forget that I can see you?" It sounds as if he's scolding a dog for doing something silly, like dragging pillows across the room. _'Did you redecorate in here?'_ Is all I can hear in his voice.

There's no response. At least I can't hear the response anymore because I only hear the one sided conversation. As his father keeps lecturing, Damien and I have a side conversation of our own.

"Are you… ok?" He asks. Guilty. Unsure. Why does he sound like that? His trembling hand is still resting on my chest, and when he looks down at it he jerks it away like that one hand could kill me. Can it? I don't answer but he seems to know I'm not ok.

He gently lays my head on the floor and hesitates above me like he's not sure if he should kiss me or not. He hovers over me while he considers it. Instead he stands up and stalks over to stand next to his father to demand answers from _what_ ever just did that to me, spitting curses at it the whole way. I sit up on my heels and watch him leave me vulnerable.

"Poaching souls is not allowed, but ESPECIALLY not from my son", his giant of a father starts to roar angrily now. "…You know you're important to me, but for the love of GOD —" haha, lol, "— you WILL RESPECT MY SON! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" He waits for an answer. Something that makes Damien and his dad roll their eyes at exactly the same point. They're both standing with folded arms and holding their weight on their left leg. They've never looked more like father and son, like perfect mirror images of each other. It makes me wonder who his mom is, but this is an inappropriate time to ask. Right?

"His human status is of no concern to you, he's still more _in-charge_ than you. How's that feel, huh?" Yeah, no, it's probably an inappropriate time. "Shut up. I'm getting tired of this. Consider yourself court-marshaled when we get back. You'll have to answer to the Holy Counsel of Darkness so wear your best shoes, with the laces up the sides…" the voices fade away as Damien's dad fades into a less-angry cackle of fire that reminds me more of a fireplace than it does an explosion. What a strangely pleasant Devil he is.

I realize the air has cleared and I can breathe again. I slump forward before I can stop myself and gasp for air as my shoulder plummets towards the floor. Damien shoots out a hand and catches me, gathering me up in his arms and rocking me in his lap. He's crying. Ugh.

I dazedly reach up and find his actual face in the double vision version swimming before me and grab onto it. I don't have the energy to move beyond that so I just hold his gaze in mine and attempt to twitch my thumbs over his cheekbones.

"Father." He whispers almost like he'd realized he's forgotten something. "Father!" He calls desperately into the darkness as sparks emerge from the shadows. Without saying anything, Satan places a firm hand on his son's tense shoulder. _"what was that?"_ Damien hisses through tears.

"You know you shouldn't call your soul through the void when your vessel is half-empty", he gently scolded.

"Not that!" Damien snapped his head in his father's direction, his eyes never leaving my body. "What… what…." He's holding a shaking hand above me, flipping it over in the air to examine all sides. He's breathing too hard to continue, but his dad seems to know what he means.

I look up and notice the big scary Devil himself squeezing his eyes shut as if something wounded him, or deeply wounded his heart. He took a shaking breath and squeezed his son's shoulder. As he smiled brightly. "That's something I used to be able to do…. Before…" voice trailing to a far off memory. An old memory, as old as time itself. One he hasn't thought about in centuries.

"What?" Damien choked, clearly confused. " _How?_ " He spat irrationally in his father's direction. The larger of the two seemed to not even flinch at the misplaced anger. Instead he smiled brightly. With something in his eye akin to the leftover heaven he missed so much.

"From me." Damien turned to look at the towering entity behind him with wide, childlike eyes, "But I'm forbidden to unlock these powers anymore myself. It just can't happen. I remember trying so hard for decades at a time after…." His voice trails off in hurt again. "But you're not all evil Damien. You're half of His creation. He must be forgiving of your unfortunate existence enough to grant you a few powers from both sides." He cups his hand under his son's chin and smiles with such sadness I would swear he was a human man remembering a lost family he had once loved with all his heart, "from the light."

Damien lets out a few heavy, panicked breaths as his wide eyes shift to looking at nothingness. I tap a hand on his knee to remind him to breathe as he looks at me with shining eyes.

"But —" he stutters, "but — that's not _possible!_ " He shrieks quietly.

"I thought so too. But here we are. My guess is you're more human than anything else, and you may not be able to use these powers often, if at all again. But when you need them most, they'll come to you."

Damien looks down at me with pleading eyes, I'm still weakly laying in his grip and I can't hold my head up for myself anymore.

"I need them now" he whispers with a sob.

"Then use them." His dad coos. The Devil. Cooing. What a world.

Damien hiccups a few sharp inhales as he raises his shaking hand over my chest. It hollows again, but he refuses to move beyond that. "How do I know?" He says loudly, despite his shaking. "How do I know that it'll _work—_ " his voice cracks and gives out at the last word. He's clearly concerned but I don't know why. That's probably for the best.

"If you would like reassurance, call to Michael. He won't listen to me but… maybe he'll listen to you" his father sounds defeated but I'm not sure why. I remember Satan and someone named Michael having an issue in the bible, but maybe I'm making that up. "I'll… leave… if that'll help."

"Thank you father." Damien whispers without looking away from me or his translucent hand.

With a pop of sulfur he's gone. I silently thank *someone* that Damien doesn't smell like that as much as he smells like the Axe body spray every teenage boy his age smells like.

The thought makes me chuckle but that makes me cough. Damien's fist tightens around my shoulder but he is otherwise unmoved, his other hand still hovering over me. His widened eyes close tightly as he calls out to whoever this Michael character is.

"Michael… Archangel…" Oh… "I need your help… I don't know who helped me before, or if it was my own residual heavenly power passed down from my downcast father but… _I can't_ " he weeped. Why was he weeping? I'm fine, right? "I can't do this without knowing for sure and I — I don't have the strength, _please!_ " A moment of silence and it seemed his prayers would go unanswered. He whimpered loudly, desperate and defeated, into the silence.

Then, a white light filled the room and I suddenly felt so at peace I smiled and slumped all my weight against Damien's shaking body. For a boy who's the spawn of the Devil, this boy was more sensitive than most human women I meet. _Flawed_ , he'd called it once. I call it brave.

My sudden lack of movement startled Damien and he shook my shoulder a little, calling my name. I nodded in response but otherwise didn't move. I feel a cool hand on my shoulder, soft as a cloud.

"No! Please!… please don't take — I — I can fix this by myself I just…. help… I need help!" He pleaded at someone next to me who I couldn't see, either because of the bright light emanating from everywhere, or…

Suddenly Damien's hand was illuminated in gold light and he sobbed in relief as he smiled and thrust his hand inside of my chest.

The feeling wasn't the same punch to the gut that I'd felt before, it was more of a puzzle piece fitting exactly where it was supposed to. I was relieved at the feeling. Warm tendrils wrapped around my soul and worked their magic. Cool wisps of tender touch caressed my heart and lungs, cooling the swollen organs and numbing my bruised ribs. I suddenly felt more alive than I'd felt in hours. Had it been hours? It felt as if the most loving embrace I could ever imagine was cradling me inside and outside of my body. I felt soft lips kiss all over the top of my head, but Damien was still concentrating on reviving me with his eyes closed, concern knitting his eyebrows together above what looked like a painfully relieved smile.

I suddenly shot up gasping for air, this time lungs too full rather than too empty. I caught my breath and Damien sighed, relieved, and wrapped his arms around me. Gently squeezing me tighter each second. He pulled away and turned to look behind me.

" _Thank you._ " He breathed. I turned my head in time to see the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. Chiseled face with soft eyes and a set jaw. Underneath a halo made of stars and sunlight, flowing golden hair fell to his broad and muscular shoulders. I gasped in awe at the blinding set of golden armor that lay atop his strong form, and the solid gold wings that were protruding proudly from his back, in such great size I didn't understand how they could fit in my room. A single, long-staffed sword lay loosely in his enormous hands, and his ankles were shrouded in golden-strapped sandals, it made me want to grovel before him and kiss his feet.

Archangel Michael adjusted his stance uncomfortably, but otherwise smiled at Damien genuinely.

"Can you forgive me?" Damien asked so quietly it was almost inaudible.

Michael strode over to where Damien was now kneeling against his heels in a heap next to me, while I was still too in awe of this beauty to move. Kneeling down on one knee next to him, he whispered something in Damien's ear that made him cry silently in emotional relief. The angel gave Damien a brief kiss on the cheek and turned to leave. He turned around momentarily to give me a nod and a wink, and then he was gone in a rush of wind, leaving a warm and comforting breeze behind him.

Damien was still unmoving, but crying silently still, moving his lips to say nothing in particular, and blinking his vision clear as fast as he could.

"What did he say?" I settled on, rather than ask all the _'what the fuck was that'_ questions I had swimming around in my head.

"He said," he swallowed shakily and took a deep breath of relief, "he said 'your father was always a favorite'—" Damien laughed out a puff of air through his nose and scrunched his eyebrows in thought "—and 'we should never be faulted by our father's missteps'. He also said that your soul is safe, and that I'd always have a connection to—" he pauses like he doesn't know how to say this next part, "to heaven… if I ever need it again."

I just blink at him wordlessly, no idea how to process the new information about my demon-boy with a heavenly connection.

I guess his father really was loved before he fell. And Archangel Michael was the one to cast him down. Yet he still cared for and even forgives his half-human son.

I'm so moved by the whole ordeal I want to cry, but I'm exhausted. Instead I curl up against Damien and rest my head on his finally sturdy body I wrap my arms around his far shoulder, holding him close like a teddy bear, and he snakes his arms around my middle and holds me close to him, fingers tracing patters against my waist and his lips breathing warm air against my hair.

"I'm sorry" he whispers as he kisses my head, "it's my fault…" I know it is, but I also know that I'm the one who stupidly thought a ouija board would help him cross over. The spiritual speak-and-spell. And I can't bear the guilt he puts on himself for the things he's not able to control yet. I'd take responsibility later, when his pride can handle allowing me take the fall for that part.

So instead I plant a soft kiss to a little mole on his neck as he sighs against me. I nuzzle my nose against his collarbone and inhale his scent of smoke and cologne until I'm dizzy in the head.

"Don't apologize for saving me." I know that's not what he meant. He knows I know that. But luckily he lets it go, and accepts my thanks. "We can't always control what happens to us, or where we're born into, or circumstantial changes we're going through." I lay a hand against his faintly beating heart and sigh against this being that's more human and heavenly being than his demonic outbursts might suggest. "You came out the other side. You survived. And you saved me in the process." I feel his heart thump against my hand, and I know I've struck a chord with him. "I'm okay, you're okay. And it will only get better." I pause for a moment, thinking of the best way to phrase my unwavering devotion with the sudden swell I feel in my chest when I look into his eyes. " _We_ survived."

He smiles that rare Damien smile and echos my words with solid conviction, and a boyish chuckle.

"We survived."


End file.
